


ugly, bitter & true

by silkbonnet



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/F, Gen, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27318988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkbonnet/pseuds/silkbonnet
Summary: and she sinks.
Relationships: Maya Bishop & Jack Gibson, Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca
Comments: 38
Kudos: 134





	1. centre will not hold

**Author's Note:**

> sorry in advance

.  
  
  
It's dark.  
  
That is the first thing that registers when Maya opens her eyes. It's dark, almost unnaturally so and it's quiet, _so_ quiet. The air is thick, and something smells almost rancid but she can't place it.  
  
Her eyes are already closing, almost against her will and Maya tries to stay awake but it's fruitless.   
  
She stops fighting it.  
  
  
/  
  
  
" _Why can't we just use my playlist it's—"_  
  
 _"I'm not listening to some whiny indie artist, Jack," Maya says. She turns the dial again, looking for something passable._  
  
 _"It's my car."_  
  
 _"Exactly, that's why I should get to pick. It's called manners."_  
  
 _Jack narrows his eyes but doesn't stop her from turning the dial on the radio. "Can you just pick a station already?"_  
  
 _Just for that, Maya skips through four more stations._  
  
 _She's about to go to the next one when she hears low rock. The service isn't great and she doesn't recognize the song but it's the clearest output they've had so far and the song isn't terrible; she decides to leave it._  
  
 _"What's this one?" Jack says, glancing at her in the front mirror._  
  
 _"Don't know." Maya reclines a little in her seat and turns to look out the window. "But I like it, leave it."_  
  
 _"It's okay," Jack says but she sees him dart his hand out and turn it up._  
  
 _Warm air blasts from Jack's heater, but Maya still zips up her jacket. The cool spring air has somehow leeched its way inside and Jack's car hasn't heated up all the way yet._  
  
 _"Can we stop for breakfast?"_  
  
 _"It's out of the way."_  
  
 _"Just make a quick stop, Jack c'mon. I'm starving and you got to my place super early. I just saw a sign for a diner less than a mile away. You know you want to."_  
  
 _"I really just—"_  
  
 _"Jack."_  
  
 _Jack sighs, but takes the exit, "fine. But drive thru or nothing," he says._  
  
 _Maya grins, triumphant. "Sounds good to me."_  
  
 _Jack just shoots her an annoyed look but Maya doesn't care; she'll be eating soon enough._  
  
 _Sinking back into her seat, she turns back to the window. The city passes, the urban sites now giving way to trees and overgrown weeds. On the back roads, the fog is deeper, but it's almost comforting; the wisps of grey leave the world hazy and soft, like some sort of unreality._

_Or maybe Maya's still a little tired. She'd worked a 24 hour shift with back to back emergencies, and almost no respite in between. It was exhilarating, but a lot. Their last call dragged from evening to early the morning and just as she'd gotten home and her head hit her pillow, she'd been called out again to a five alarm fire. For once, she's glad to be in the passenger seat._   
  
_The music is still playing, the singers baritone swelling at the bridge._   
  
_"This is the longest song in the world," Jack says._   
  
_"Stop being annoying. It's good."_   
  
_"I can't believe you complained about my music choices but you're forcing us to listen to dad rock."_   
  
_Maya rolls her eyes. "Should I change it?"_   
  
_"....No," Jack says, after a second of pretending to give it consideration._   
  
_Maya snorts. He's terribly transparent but she doesn't say anything._   
  
_"Why are you exiting on this route?" She asks instead._   
  
_"It's faster. It'll save us time if there's a line at the diner."_   
  
_Leaning back into her seat, Maya shrugs and takes off her scarf. The heat has finally warmed the car, and there's condensation on the windows. She traces a straight line from the bottom of the glass to the top then wipes it away with her sleeve._   
  
_It's just after midnight; too dark to really see anything other than the lights of the few cars on the road. This early, the world feels almost forgiving; easy._   
  
  


/

  
The second time she wakes up, it's still dark but Maya hardly notices.   
  
She's on fire; she isn't burning and there are no flames but she is a raw nerve and all she feels is agony. She can't remember a time before this, a time before the severe ache that's all over and inside and above and below.   
  
She _hurts,_ more than she's ever hurt in her life—more than accidentally getting ignited on the job and scrapes and smoke inhalation—this is pure pain.   
  
There is something stuck on her eyelashes and it burns, thick and viscous. Maya blinks to clear her eyes but it doesn't help.  
  
She knows it's blood before she tastes it, before it drips down her nose and into her mouth. She can smell it; copper and tangy and stale.   
  
It's too dark for her to see all her injures but she knows it's bad.   
  
Her breath is coming out in short wheezes, each one weaker than the last, and it hurts to blink. She thinks it would hurt even without the blood stinging her eyes and clouding her vision.   
  
Maya tries to lift herself up from where she's laying flat on her back and is immediately punished for it. Her body screams at her for daring to disturb it and her vision starches, white.   
  
Sucking in a hot breath, she coughs; her whole whole body shakes and the raw ache in her throat is almost worse than everything else.  
  
Almost.  
  
She doesn't know when she started to shiver but her arm starts twitching on its own and then her whole body is convulsing and—  
  
She doesn't fight it; she lets her eyes close.  
  
  


/

  
The third time Maya wakes up there are blue eyes staring right at her and for a horrific moment she thinks she's become prey to some animal but then things snap into focus.   
  
Jack.  
  
"Maya," Jack is fraught, hysterical, and it should worry her but all she can think about is how _loud_ his voice seems.  
  
"Fuck," Maya says, scared, but also pleased with how steady her voice comes out. Her throat is still raw and it burns to speak but she's never let pain stop her before.  
  
She tries to sit up, remembering all too late that it's a bad idea. Her body protests, and the pain that shoots through her is almost blinding.  
  
She doesn't blackout though and that's a good sign.  
  
"Don't," Jack places a hand on her chest; it's freezing.   
  
She thinks. She can't really feel it.  
  
That might be a problem.  
  
"Don't move," Jack says, hands trembling. "You need to stay still, Maya, you need—"  
  
"What happened?" Maya rasps, meeting his gaze.  
  
Jack doesn't answer, just stares, dazed, at the spot on her head where he's been pressing down.   
  
Head injury? It seems like it with all the blood and the dull ache she can feel forming from behind her eyes.   
  
"Jack," Maya prods. But even as she speaks her head is clearing.   
  
She remembers driving slow and—no. Jack. Jack was driving slow and careful and then—  
  
The rest is just bits and pieces.  
  
She recalls the screech of a the car as it veered off the road; the sound of glass shattering; metal groaning and wailing as it crumpled and collided with something.  
  
They hit something.   
  
They were on route 28, with its long winding roads and little mountains. Maya doesn't like to take it, it's a hassle to navigate, especially at night.   
  
She can see the car from where she's laying. The windshield is smashed, the car is sunken at the top, and there's a huge tree pressing down on it which makes the doors jut out.   
  
They must have been thrown out of the car when they... crashed?   
  
Maya's body certainly feels like it smashed into something and there's glass in her hair to confirm. She thinks she went through the windshield, maybe. Her body (what she can see of it) is littered with cuts that should hurt more than they do but she's only just coming back to herself, and right now the main issue is the head injury and her left leg. It's twisted and facing the wrong direction. There's also something sticking through her shirt, on the right side of her stomach but she can't really think too much about it because every time she glances at it she feels faint. Her shirt is light blue and the bottom half is already crusted with blood, staining it a dark purple. It's bad, even if she can't feel it.  
  
 _Especially_ if she can't feel it.   
  
The fact that she can't even lift herself up without almost blacking out is also cause for concern.   
  
She remembers a little bit more.   
  
They were on the road driving, and then, suddenly, they were falling and falling and falling. Or that's what it felt like.  
  
She was falling and then she woke up.   
  
With Jack.   
  
Who is still kneeling over her but has finally taken his hand from her head; he must have realized it was useless. The blood is coming too fast, and Maya can only turn her head a little without her vision whitening out, but from the side of her eye she can see him staring at his bloody hands.   
  
"What happened?" Maya asks again, stronger this time. Her throat is still raw but she needs to speak because she has pieces and she can't quite make them fit.   
  
"We crashed," Jack's voice comes out faint. Hardly a whisper, and Maya has to strain to hear. "We—I crashed. I crashed the car."   
  
Maya remembers a hand flying out towards her, wide terrified eyes and then a scream. She doesn't know which one of them screamed. Maybe it was both of them.   
  
Nothing else is coming back. It doesn't make sense, Jack was driving slow, she remembers that... and then?  
  
Jack picked her up from home, she remembers that. Carina borrowed Maya's car, (hers is out of commission for the week) and when she texted the group chat for a ride, Jack was the first to answer.

He showed up at her door really quickly, claimed he had already been in the neighborhood and she didn't even have time to grab a smoothie or anything, just her go bag. She remembers tossing it into the back seat, climbing into the front and then they were driving.

It gets fuzzy from there.  
  
Jack is still talking, saying something low but frenzied and she's never seen him this distressed. It's like she isn't even there, and that unnerves her almost more than her injuries.   
  
"Jack." She says his name just once, but something in her voice must get through because he stops, snaps wet eyes up at her.  
  
There are drying tear marks mixed with dirt and blood on his cheeks and a cut on his forehead. It looks deep, but the blood has already coagulated so they must have been here a while.  
  
That should worry her too, but everything has started to feel distant, like she's standing elsewhere, and she can't make herself focus, suddenly.   
  
It's a heady feeling, and the world is suddenly distorted. Trying to find a focal point only makes things more dim.   
  
The blood on her eyes must have dried, because she feels something flake off her eyelids when she blinks and her eyes don't burn anymore.   
  
"I—fuck." Jack takes a shuddering breath, runs his hands through his hair, forgetting about the blood.  
  
Streaks of red stain his hair as he does so and Maya wonders just how much blood she's lost.   
  
She can smell it, rusty and sour in the air but other than a sharp pain when she moves her head even a little, she can't really feel the wound, and Jack is clearly too distraught to tell her anything.  
  
He needs to calm down and she's going to have to help.   
  
"Jack," it takes great effort to say this, and Maya has to fold her fist against a wave of pain as she lifts her chin slightly. "You need to calm down. Tell me what happened."  
  
"Don't talk," Jack says, moving back a little, "don't, move. Fuck."  
  
"I'll move if I want to," Maya says, because she might be in the worst pain of her life and it might be hard to make herself stay awake but that doesn't mean Jack's in charge. Not even if she's dying.  
  
Is she dying(?)  
  
She doesn't know, but she feels like she's being weighed down and it's easier this time to let herself fade.   
  
  


/

The third time, Maya wakes gasping.  
  
The ache from the gash in her stomach is excruciating, it jolts her awake and she immediately scans the area for Jack.

He's moved from towering over her to sitting by her right side. He's not facing her but she can see his chest rising too quickly, and he isn't making any real noise but she can tell he's having trouble breathing.

He doesn't look good.  
  
He's got his jacket off, and his arm is cradled in his lap, bent at a weird angle and it's still too dark to see properly, but Maya's eyes are adjusting.  
  
There's a mess of road rash from his wrist to his shoulder, she can see it raw and red and riddled with gravel.   
  
He must have been thrown from the car, just like she was, but other than his arm and the cut on his forehead, she can't find anything else physically wrong. She can only see so much though, and his arm looks painful but Jack doesn't even seem to notice. He's panting and his chest is moving in familiar jerky movements.  
  
"Jack," Maya tries to sit up then remembers what a bad idea that is when her vision whites out.   
  
"Jack, you need to calm down."  
  
It's the first thing she thinks of and she's not surprised when he doesn't even glance at her.  
  
"Jack," Maya grits her teeth and tries to at least turn to her side. The pain is worse but this time she's expecting it and she lets it run through her, shivering.   
  
"You need to take even breaths, okay? Jack look at me."  
  
He seems to look right through her, eyes unfocused as they pass over her face but he's facing her, at least.  
  
"Good." Maya tries not to linger on the fact that sitting up, she can see white bone from her lower leg jutting out through a rip in her jeans, tries not to wonder why it doesn't hurt, and what that means.  
  
Jack is still panting, half way to hyperventilating and that cannot happen.

As far as Maya knows, they're the only ones aware they're down here, and at least one of them has to stay awake. Her track record so far hasn't been so great so, Jack has to be the one to stay lucid.   
  
"Okay, if you don't clam down I'm going to have to come over there and my legs are really fucked up so I don't think that's a good idea." This gets his attention. For all his faults, Jack would never want her to be in pain, so she knows this should work.   
  
He turns to her, eyes wide, the fear in them evident. For a second he looks like he did all those years ago when they first started at the academy and all Maya sees in that moment is her scared friend. Something heavy claws its way to the pit of her stomach and tries to make its home there, but Maya steels herself against it.

She has to ignore it; this isn't the time to process her emotional reactions, she needs to concentrate. 

"Look, copy me." She takes a deep breath, the same technique she's been using for years; the one the school nurse showed her after her first panic attack in her 4th grade art class. "Like this."  
  
She has to do it 4 times before Jack joins her but after 8 breaths they're in sync.   
  
"That's great. You're doing good."  
  
Her throat is on fire from all the talking and deep breathing and she has to swallow against nausea when she takes her next breath but Jack looks better.  
  
"I'm sorry." Jack says. His voice is still rough but he's calming down. 

Normally, Maya would offer one of the platitudes about panic attacks she's heard said to her countless times, but she can taste bitterness at the back of her throat so she doesn't speak. She lifts an arm in his general direction instead, but it's a stupid move because she almost blacks out from the action; Jack is by her side in an instant.  
  
"Don't move, lay back down," Jack's voice is stronger, and it figures; of course telling her what to do would be just the thing to ground him.   
  
"I got it," Maya rasps. She doesn't got it.   
  
She needs some help to lie down again and even then, it feels like if she never moves from this spot on the hard, frozen ground, it'll be too soon.  
  
Jack moves to sit beside her and she wants to tell him to back off but she gets why he's watching her so carefully. So far, she's counted three times that she's lost consciousness and if the cloying pounding in her head is any indication, she should be expecting a fourth black out soon.  
  
"Here," Jack folds moves away from her line of vision, then comes back. Carefully lifting her neck, he places something under her head. "Is that better?"  
  
It's really not. Jack was wearing a leather jacket, same as Maya was, and they're not exactly known for being soft and pillow-like.  
  
She decides to lie anyway, because Jack looks like he needs her to say it's better and she doesn't want him flipping out again. "It is, thanks."  
  
He nods, "good, that's good." Closing his eyes, he lets out a loud exhale, "I'm sorry."  
  
"Jack, it's fine, you don't have to apologize for—"  
  
"It's my fault."  
  
"Jack—"  
  
"I—" Jack runs a hand through his hair, swallows. "I fell asleep. It was just for a second but when I woke up it was too late and—jesus, fuck. I'm sorry."  
  
Maya feels a coolness settle over her that has nothing to do with the weather.

Everything slows.

She can't hear anything, the sounds in the woods are garbled, silent. She feels detached from it all, like she's floating, both inside her body and above it; she's still aware of her pain but it hurts in a distant way.

Everything hurts in a distant way; it's a strange sensation and it doesn't last.  
  
She blinks and suddenly everything rushes back and she can hear noises again, can feel the blood rushing to her head.

Trying to sit up almost makes Maya cry out; the pain is agonizing and she half hopes she passes out out but she slaps Jack's hand away when he offers it and forces herself to stay upright. Her vision sways but she doesn't lay back down. She wants to look Jack in the eyes.

 _"_ You fell _asleep?"_ Maya repeats, low and furious. Sitting up, she can feel the shard in her stomach, sharp and grating and deep and it makes her sick.

She sees Jack look down at her stomach and swallow hard.

"Tell me." She needs to make sure that she heard him right. 

Jack meets her eyes and he looks miserable, like he's been agonizing over this information as she fades in and out of consciousness but it's not enough. "I worked with B shift yesterday and the day before but I didn't mark it down. I've done it before and I was fine. I thought I could handle it, I thought..." Jack's voice cracks and he looks down.  
  
Numb. Maya feels numb.

It's like being unmade, the pain in her body paired with this information.

Jack keeps talking but it fades into white noise with the rest of the sounds swirling around her.

She doesn't care about his guilt or if he's sorry or regretful. Nothing he can say will ever be enough. 

Maya has felt pure hate maybe three times in her whole life, but in this moment?

She _hates_ Jack. More than she's ever hated anyone. Ever.

Her body is broken and she might live, but she will never be _her_ again. Not with the way her leg is bent, and not with the numbness that's slowly making it's way up her body.  
  
Maya's vision has started to blur, and she's having a difficult time focusing on Jack, because suddenly, there are two of him. She's fading again, but it doesn't matter. She knows he'll hear her.  
  
"It should have been you," she says, forcing the words out as the pounding in her head grows. If she doesn't wake up, she needs him to know this; wants him to live the rest of his life, how ever long that is, knowing that she hates him and blames him. "You should be lying here, dying, it should have been you."

Once she's sure he's heard, seen him flinch, seen his hands start to tremble again, she closes her eyes and gives in to the darkness creeping at the edges of her vision.


	2. yours & mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen 2 halloween by phoebe bridgers for the 3D experience x

.

  
Maya wakes up freezing; fat rain drops are beating down on her face and the cold shocks her eyes open. 

Jack is still hovering close, and he tries to speak but his mouth snaps shut when Maya snarls at him to, "please, shut the fuck up."

He goes back to tinkering with his phone. 

Maya's phone is still missing but they found Jack's a while ago, pinned under Maya's hip. She'd felt something digging in her side but when she reached for it, any hope of a rescue quickly vanished. The screen was smashed and most of the glass was embedded in the skin of Maya's lower back; it's useless.

Jack is quiet as he tries to get his phone to work, doesn't speak again until the rain really starts coming down. 

"Here, Maya," Jack says. He's next to her, suddenly, standing over her and holding out his sweater. 

Maya doesn't acknowledge him.

He tries draping it over her anyway, but she snatches it off, throws it in his face.

A twinge of pain shoots up her arm and pulsates through her upper body; she has to brace herself against passing out but it's worth it for the way the sweater lands square in the middle of Jack's face, smacking him in the nose and making a squelching noise as it falls to the ground.

/

  
Maya drifts.

  
/

  
She thinks she's dying. It feels like unraveling, the pain, the drifting; It's not like she thought it would be, there is no grand revelation, instead, her thoughts are frantic, erratic, like a bad dream. 

She's not sure how much time has passed.

No matter how hard she wills it, she can't make herself stay awake for long, and her thoughts are ever fluctuating, her mind fickle. Sometimes, she knows she's dreaming and other times it feels so real, she can taste and hear and _feel_ and it's only when her she wakes, disoriented and cold and sore that she remembers.

  
  


*

  
_"Do you ever wish we'd done the kid thing?" Maya asks._

_She's not really asking if Carina regrets their life but watching Carina watch Dean and Jack chase Prue around the park stirs something foreign and wistful inside of her._

_"The kid thing?" Carina asks lightly, turning in Maya's arms._

_"Mhm, do you ever think about it, what it would be like if we'd had some?"_

_Maya looks down, but Carina's eyes are closed so she can't read her expression._

_"Is this because of Prue's party? Or are you actually reconsidering some things?"_

_"The party, a little, but it's been on my mind. I guess."_

_They could, hypothetically, still be parents. They're both young enough and there are multiple ways they could go about it, if they wanted._

_They discussed it though, early on, and while they weren't vehemently against it, neither of them had the patience or really wanted the responsibility; kids aren't something you can do halfway or decide to give back, so they both agreed it wasn't in the cards._

_Maya doesn't want their life to change, not even a little, but sometimes she does imagine it. Especially now, with Andy pregnant and the majority of their conversations monopolized by baby talk, sometimes she imagines a tiny version of Carina, with the same chocolate brown eyes and cute nose and she thinks she could do it. But watching Andy and seeing the reality of it all brings her back down to earth._

_She doesn't want it, but sometimes she wonders._

_"You like our life, right?" Maya asks, quiet and serious. She traces a finger down Carina's jaw until she looks up. When she does, she fixes Maya with an intense gaze._

_"I love our life, Maya," Carina takes her hand. "And I like things exactly how they are, don't you?"_

_Maya nods. "No, I do. It's just, everything's changing and I just don't want you to have missed out on that. If that's something you want."_

_"You're what I want." Carina says. She turns, tugs Maya down by her collar and kisses her on the mouth. "I love you and I'm not missing out on anything, alright?"_

_"Okay," Maya drops her forehead against Carina's. "But you'd tell me if...?"_

_"Of course," Carina says. "Of course. But I like this—us. Okay?"_

_"Okay."_

  
_/_

_Their new house has a fireplace and home has never been a safe place, not ever, not for Maya, but when she comes back from work, early in the morning or late at night and sees Carina's shoes strewn in the hallway and her jacket hanging over the couch, something in her is always soothed, and the troubles of the day are blunted._

_Maya doesn't think she can put it into words but it feels like she's finally found a safe place to land, like maybe she doesn't always have to keep going and going and going; like she can rest._

  
_/_

  
_"Maya, I'm going to miss my plane," Carina says, even as she grabs Maya's hands. "I have to go."_

_"Five more minutes," Maya says. Once Carina leaves the terminal she won't be able to come along and she doesn't want to let go of her, not yet._

_Carina nods and pulls Maya close by her waist until she's pressed up flush against her._

_Carina is going to Australia for a three week conference; her latest neo-natal study has been making international rounds and she keeps getting offers to speak at various panels. Most recently, the University of Melbourne's Centre of Women's Health and Wellness proposed a temporary teaching position. It would be remote, but if she takes the position Carina would have to fly back and forth a few times a month to sort things out and this trip is a test run._

_Carina has worked really hard and all she's talked about in the last few weeks is this trip. Maya is excited for her but three weeks is a long time to be away, even with video calls and texts._

_The time flashes brightly on one of the hanging monitors above them. Carina glances at it and sighs._

_"I should go," Carina says, but she doesn't drop Maya's hand or move from her side._

_"Twenty-three days" Maya says, rubbing a thumb across her palm. "It's not that long."_

_"I know," Carina says, softly. She lowers her head and kisses Maya slowly._

_It's starts as a peck but Maya swipes at Carina's lips with her tongue until she opens her mouth. Maya normally wouldn't be okay with kissing in public but the next time she'll get to touch Carina will be a month from now so, she thinks they deserve this one small moment._

_"I'll miss you," Carina mumbles against her lips._

_Pressing one more kiss in the corner of Carina's mouth, Maya leans back, "me too, call me when you land, 'kay?"_

_"I will, I love you."_

_"Love you, too." Maya kisses her again, just once, soundly on the mouth then moves back._

_Carina pulls up the handle on her suitcase, squeezes her hand, and then, with one last wave over her shoulder, she wheels her bags away and disappears through the glass doors._

_They've been apart before but never this long, not since they got together, and it's not that long but Maya's gotten used to just always having Carina there_. _She'll still see her face and hear her voice when she calls, but it'll be different without being able to touch her._

_Maya waits until Carina's shadow through the door fades before she leaves. She feels a little ridiculous and mentally chastises herself for being so affected. Carina's not going away forever, and they have texts and calls and video chats._

_She'll be back soon enough; she always comes back._

_/_

_On their third anniversary Maya surprises Carina with a trip to Italy._

_Carina hasn't been back home in almost two years and she's so happy when Maya presents her with the tickets, she leans across the dining table and kisses her hard, making Maya drop her glass, red wine spilling and staining the placemats._

_Neither of them moves to clean it, not right away._

  
_They leave on a Friday and stay for a week._

_Or maybe two weeks._

_It's a little murky, now._

_This is a dream. Maya knows this._

_But the sun on her skin feels real and the water lapping at her feet is so green, she feels the foam tickle her toes and when she looks down, she can feel Carina's hand in hers, solid and warm and sure._

_They did go to Italy, but she's not sure when, not anymore, it's faded. And she can't call to mind exactly who they stayed with, if it was a cousin or an aunt, but she can still remember the way had Carina smiled at dinner, content and calm, on their last day._

_Maya tried to say goodbye in Italian, but her pronunciation was off and when Carina corrected her, Maya still didn't get it and she'd laughed. The delighted lilt of her laugh, Maya can still hear it ring._

_She remembers that._   


_/_

  
_"Don't lie to my girlfriend about me."_

_Girlfriend. She likes how it sounds from Carina's mouth so much that she doesn't even hear the joke Amelia tells that prompted Carina to say it._

_They haven't been together long but they're going on vacation in 3 days—Maya's first in...she doesn't even know how many years—this is new but she doesn't want it to stop._

_She likes Carina a lot; more than a lot, more than she's ever liked anyone, really and it's early but she wants this—her—she's all Maya can think about._

_She doesn't have a whole lot of practice and usually any hint of commitment would send her running but with Carina she wants to try._

_When Carina meets her in her office with lunch, or comes over after work, animatedly explaining procedures Maya will never understand but loves hearing about, or when she wakes up in the mornings and Carina is wrapped around her, asleep and soft, snoring lightly, with her hair in Maya's face... it all makes Maya ache with a want so deep, it scares her a little._

_"Is that okay?" Carina asks, later, because she knows Maya, can read so well, already. "We can go slower, I can take it back if—"_

_"No, no, don't take it back, it's fine. I like it," Maya fumbles, because she wants this but she's not had much practice and she feels like she should say more._

_Carina takes her face in her hands and kisses her, says something in Italian when she pulls back and Maya doesn't do pet names, but Carina says something that ends with 'bella' and Maya flushes; she just knows she's got a look of gooey affection on her face._

_Carina's hands come to rest at her waist and Maya loses herself in her touch._

_*_

  
Her whole body is vibrating, and the force of it makes her brain feel like it's rattling in her head. Her breath manifests in a soft mist when she exhales and the chill sinking into her body is bone deep, unforgiving.

She's awake.

Jack is sitting close to the car, under a tree, and its probably not the smartest decision, but it's stopped raining so he should be fine—not that Maya gives a shit.

They've had to have been out here for hours, now. It's getting light out, Maya can see the bright pink ribbons of sun through the trees. 

Jack's been updating her about their situation, even though she's been ignoring him. 

Neither of their go bags for work have anything useful, besides their uniforms and some water. Jack's first aid kit in the car seemed like it could help but he hasn't updated it in years, and other than expired polysporin, nothing is particularly helpful. 

Maya watched Jack slather ointment on this arm and he tried to help her clean off a bit too, held out yellowed cotton pads to her with a pitiful look on his face, but she wouldn't engage, she'd just snatched the bandages and looking away. He finally got the message and left her alone. 

He's sitting a few steps away, but angled towards her, probably so he can help, if she needs it. Maya doesn't know why he's even bothering. 

He's the reason for all of this and she doesn't know what he thinks he can do for her, now.

Maya is still _so_ furious at Jack that she thinks she is never going to feel anything else. Destruction and rage run through her veins and she seethes with it, the urge to sink her fingers into his chest and dig into him until he hurts like she does. 

Some mangled part of her rejoices over the fact that Jack will live with this forever, that he will never be free from this, that he'll always carry the shadow of her end with him. 

More than the pain in her limbs or the cold clawing its way into her body, the fact that Jack is the one who did this is so incomprehensibly harrowing that she can't look at him without wanting to scream about it. 

She doesn't, not just because it hurts to speak but also because she knows there are animals in the woods. Nothing has been drawn to them—yet—despite the overpowering scent of her blood.

The thought of being picked apart by some animal, that, more than anything, reinforces the fatal gravity of their situation and terror fueled tears prick at Maya's eyes.

She presses the palms of her hands to her eyes, and it quells the tears but when she peers at her hands, they're filthy; her nails are sticky with blood and grime. It's gotten really cold, now, and there are black spots around the edges of her vision. Paired with the tears that refuse to stop, it's hard to see and this time, Maya welcomes the heaviness that blankets her as she fades.

  
/

  
It isn't like before, when she drifts and drifts and drifts and drifts. This time, her eyes have barely closed, before they're opening again. 

The wind is howling, blowing small twigs and leaves in her face. Her hair is plastered to her face, half dry and curling at the ends. The rain has washed most of the blood out but strangely, she can still smell her shampoo. 

Or rather, Carina's shampoo. It's this expensive berry mix she's used since Maya's known her, and Maya is a store brand kind of girl—efficiency over luxury—but she's been using it too, this past week. 

She's purposefully walled herself off from thoughts about Carina. 

She can't control what her mind does to her when she's asleep or unconscious but she can control what she thinks about when she's awake and she has forced any and all thoughts of Carina down, down, down, somewhere behind her heart. 

But she's never been able to say no to Carina, not even a little, and now that the dam has been broken, the memories flood her mind. 

Maya gets flashes: the taste of Carina's inner thigh, the softness of her lips, how it feels to hold her in the night and kiss her awake in the mornings. 

Some part of Maya that has been simmering with despair breaks, and she lets out a low whimper, without meaning to. 

She didn't even kiss Carina goodbye, she was so tired. She'd seen her off to work with a sleepy wave and that was that.

She didn't tell her anything real, any of the things she's been keeping inside. And there are so many more things she wanted to say, so many more things they were supposed to do. 

It's been just over 5 years, but it feels like they just fell in love; like they just began. 

This can't be their end; Carina shouldn't have to identify her body or go home to a quiet, empty house. Thinking about Carina all alone and grieving without her being there to fix it, it makes Maya's stomach turn. 

The bile comes almost too fast but she's able to turn her head in time. It's mostly just acid, because she didn't get to eat yet, but it still leaves a sour aftertaste. 

Maya's baser instincts take over and she heaves and heaves, until the ground next to her is darkened and soaked. 

Jack's sweater is still draped over her, he must have snuck it on when she lost consciousness. Lifting it off her body, she tosses it over the mess she's made. It stains immediately. 

  
Jack is turned away, but she knows he isn't sleeping. He peeked at her when he saw her throwing up but her warning glare stopped him from coming over. He's giving her space, probably thinks he's helping. 

There isn't enough space in the world to ever make her forgive him or see him as more than her executor.

Feeling around for the bottle he placed next to her hand, she takes a sip of the little water left, tries to wash away the taste of blood and bile. He throat burns, and the cough that tears its way through her body makes it worse.

Her head is pounding again and it's getting harder to keep her eyes open. She doesn't want to drift away again, but she doesn't want to stay awake, either. Closing her eyes helps, but only just.

/

  
Maya and her mother aren't as close as she would like. They text, sometimes, but even with her father finally out of the picture, it's still hard for them to connect. 

They are extremely different; when Maya strikes, her mother soothes but it's still not enough.

Maya hardly reaches out, but her mother has never stopped trying, finally behaving like the parent Maya had needed all those years ago. 

She's always figured they would have time, that they would one day come to a greater understanding. 

Maya hasn't decided yet, but she'd been thinking about maybe inviting her mom over for dinner, someday soon. Her mother has only met Carina the once, briefly, in her office, but Maya thinks she would like her, if she got to know her. 

The thought of them finally meeting, really meeting, at her funeral, or memorial or something equally bleak, it sends a shockwave through her body and suddenly, she's gasping for air, choking. 

Closing her eyes, Maya tries to will the image of her mother's face away. Talking herself down isn't easy, and she's openly crying now, loud sticky sobs that feel like they're coming right from the depths of her being, but she folds her hands into fists, digs her nails into her palms and zeros in on the sting of that ache. 

It works. 

Opening her eyes, she sees Jack hovering over her, and she blinks her tears away, scowling. 

"What the fuck do you want?" 

"You were..." he falters. "I— I'm just. Maya, I know you hate me okay? Fuck. I hate me, I'm so sorr—"

"What," a jolt of pain echoes through Maya as she turns to face him and her vision sways. "What exactly are you sorry for?"

Jack, wipes at his face. "Maya—"

"For this?" Maya points at where her hair is matted to her scalp, covering head wound. "Or this?" she lifts her shirt, and doesn't look down but Jack does, and he swallows hard at what he sees. Good. She can't make him hurt but she can make him see what he's done and she wants him to feel it, all of it.

Jack meets her gaze and this close, she can see dark smudges under his eyes, tracks of tears on his face, deep red scratches on his cheeks. He's probably been running himself ragged with worry and fear and—no. She doesn't care. 

He deserves it. 

"Maya—"

"Leave me alone. I'm serious, don't talk to me anymore."

Jack doesn't answer and Maya closes her eyes.

  
/

  
_Andy._

_They're at a park and she's talking but she isn't making a sound._

_Maya tries to reach for her but Andy morphs into Vic, who morphs into her brother._

_Mason materializes, first as an adult, then a teenager then a child, and he's calling her name, '_ mayamayamayamaya _' with a lisp, like he used to have before he grew out of it._

/

Maya wakes up sobbing.

Loud heaving sobs, and she has to bite hard on her bottom lip to make herself stop. She darts a hand out for Carina, patting around the ground blindly until she remembers.

She catches Jack staring at her and for a brief moment, she wants them to be okay again, because the worst has happened and the worst is going to keep happening and she is the one dying, but he is the one staying and this cannot be how it ends.

But, the ugly thing, under the ugly thing, under the vengeful thing inside of her refuses to absolve him. _'He did this to you,'_ it says, ' _offer him nothing; let him rot, let him feel it, let him stay haunted.'_

This fury, it sustains her and it's getting easier to do, to fade away. All she has to do is close her eyes, she doesn't even need pain to push her over. It's really fucking terrifying, because it means the end is near, much sooner than she had hoped. 

She drifts again before she can think too deeply about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think it was clear but just in case, the italics are meant to be memories/dreams


	3. truth be told.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mind the tags!

-

Maya wakes up and Jack is gone. 

She doesn’t think he’s gone far because his jacket is spread out over her chest—he must have snuck it back on her when she was out—and his water bottle has been placed near her hand for easy access. Jack wouldn’t leave her there alone but Maya also didn’t think he would try to kill her either, so she could be wrong. 

That's unfair, but there are currently tiny bugs crawling all over her and everything is hazy and painful; she thinks she’s earned the right to some uncharitable thoughts. 

Maya is still so furious at Jack that she can taste it, her fury. The rage in her veins is hot and blinding and makes her lightheaded every time she remembers.

This—lying on the floor in the woods alone and broken—is starting to look more and more like her end. 

It’s tragic and drawn out and so, so, anticlimactic. 

She isn’t going out in a blaze of glory, painful but celebrated as she saves a life in a career defining moment, or in any way that matters. No, she is going to die because of an easily preventable accident. 

Thinking about it makes her ill. 

Earlier, when Maya was finally able to stay alert for more than a minute at a time, she’d taken stock of her injuries; from what she’d deduced, the chance that she makes it out of the woods is highly unlikely.

She’s got microscopic abrasions all over, crushed glass embedded in her skin and deep bruises she can’t see but can very much feel, radiating blunted soreness through her entire upper body. Her right hand is bloody, the skin from the thumb to the middle finger shredded and raw. From what exactly, Maya doesn’t know, but it hurts like a bitch. She’s still got some mobility and can flex her hand without too much pain but moving in general is a chore. 

There’s also the overwhelming scent of copper emanating from her bloody head wound. The sore had coagulated but started bleeding again after the second rainfall a few hours ago. Careful probing with the tips of her fingers near the area around the wound revealed that it’s smaller across than she initially thought but still quite deep. 

It’s been months since Maya’s last trauma recertification, but she’s faintly familiar with head wounds and knows there are a variety of brain injuries she could have sustained; there’s a low likelihood that she’ll come away from this with only a concussion. 

Other than the blood loss that has her hair plastered to her scalp and brushing her ears in stringy pink clumps, she has a headache, a sharp pain that started from her temples but spread to her entire head. Moving her head even a little sends shockwaves of pain directly behind her eyes and makes blinking exhausting. 

That, along with the way she’s been struggling to recall her memories and the ever frequent loss of consciousness means whatever is wrong with her brain is definitely more than a concussion. Maybe a brain bleed or some kind of traumatic brain injury; whatever it is, it‘s draining and she can’t focus on anything basic, like stringing along sentences, without wanting to take a long nap to recover. 

Maya’s got a hole in her head, a semi crushed hand and too many scrapes to count and those are only her minor injuries. 

Her leg and her stomach, both of which were the first injuries she tried to do something about, are beyond help. Maya might not be a doctor, but she knows enough about general anatomy and her own body to know when something is a lost cause. 

She still doesn’t remember what happened immediately after the crash only that she woke up flat on her back and under a tree. 

Her left leg was twisted the opposite way, the off white bone of her tibia sticking out from her jeans. Bone shards from her femur were tangled with the denim, soaking the light wash jeans with blood and tissue. Pieces of what used to be her knee were little more than souvenirs, buried in the thigh of her opposite leg. 

Hours ago (Maya thinks), after failing to create a splint with pieces of damp sticks she’d begrudgingly taken from Jack, she’d given up on any real treatment and focused on keeping the wound as clean as she could, slapping away bugs that tried to crawl up her leg then wiping the area with the old bandages and little water they had left. She knew leg breaks were usually excruciating and while she was bothered by the lack of feeling, she attributed it to shock, mostly just glad she wasn’t writhing in anguish from the pain. 

That was earlier, when she’d thought help was coming (they’d broken the guardrail when they’d gone over the edge of the mountainous road, surely someone must have noticed) but when she woke up from her most recent blackout, she hadn’t been able to feel anything below her left knee. The numbness came in quickly, Maya’s left leg staying firmly in place after she tried to shake it, and she had, against her better judgement, punched the spot just above where the bone was sticking out to get a reaction. 

Nothing happened. 

Her leg stayed motionless; it wouldn’t move at all and there had been no pain, either. 

Watching her leg stay so still and unmoving, like a part of her but not, had sent Maya a little bit over the edge. She had unleashed a barrage of blows to her lower leg but nothing yielded any results. Jack had stepped in then, after ignoring all her orders to ‘back the fuck off,’ and held her hands in a firm grip until she stopped trying to reach for her legs. 

Maya deflated under his touch and the action convinced him she wasn’t going to further make a play for her leg. He’d left her alone and when he was busy tinkering with his phone and not watching her, she had stabbed a small piece of glass from what looked like a side mirror, into the flesh just above her knee. It made no difference. 

Maya’s left leg was probably out of commission forever and once she’d had that thought, she had worked herself into a frenzy, rage and despair tangling in her chest until she couldn’t breathe and bile was once again rising in the back of her throat. This time, the blackness around the edges of her vision was from the lack of air, thoughts of never running again or standing on her own two feet filling her with deep dread until she lost consciousness. 

She had woken up from a dreamless sleep with renewed energy, deciding to see what she could do about the shard in her stomach. 

It was more challenging than the leg, a simple brush near her bellybutton with her fingers sent twinges off pain through her entire midsection and into her chest, the deep shiver that over took her body, forceful and unnatural.

Once she’d calmed and stopped trembling, she’d inspected the gash and come to one conclusion: she needed medical help immediately or else that piece or guardrail that had broken off and turned itself into a spear was going to kill her. She was bleeding out slowly, the wound greying at the edges, the shard likely piercing one of her organs and for lack of actual medical equipment, there was nothing she could do about it. 

Maya has seen actual dead bodies, from molten remains that used to be entire families to charred pieces of dust that used to be limbs; she isn’t unused to this. But watching the shard twitch with every breath she took was one of the worst things she’d ever seen. 

It was like a parasite trying to meld itself to her and she knew pulling it out was inadvisable but every time she caught a glimpse of it, she’d wanted nothing more than to rip it out of her body and succumb to the consequences. 

She didn’t do that. 

Instead, Maya withdrew, leaned away from the anguish and distress surrounding the loss of her leg and the eventual loss of her life and let all those emotions evolve into apathy. 

She has always been intimately familiar with compartmentalization. 

Since Maya was a child, she’s been able to put her emotions aside and focus on the task at hand. 

_Her father calls her an idiot in front of her entire track team? It doesn’t register. She buries it, and runs faster, further, longer._

_Plates hitting the wall only centimeters from where she sits at the dinner table? -_ _She swallows her immediate response of retaliation and helps her mother sweep up the broken dishes._

Fires raging in her personal and professional life have always come second to the act of reformation, making sure things that would hurt stay cemented somewhere deep in her psyche where they can never escape and distract her. 

Coming to terms with dying, though, was (and is) unlike anything Maya has ever had to do and sitting there making herself breathe and not glower at her mangled flesh was arduous; for a while, she just stared at her leg until it didn’t even feel real. The numbness had engulfed her but it wasn’t enough. She was feeling it all, _everything_ , and she had never been more awake in her life. 

There was nothing she could do. She accepted that. 

This was her life now, she’d wanted to claw at her skin until she was no more, but unleashing more pain onto her body was foolish, so she did the next best thing. 

It was vicious, but no one had ever accused Maya of being kind, so, when Jack asked her for the millionth time how she was doing, she had told him exactly what was on her mind. 

Her throat had become hoarse from the insults she flung at him, all the while not even registering half the things she was saying. 

She was inside herself, yet above, watching them like a tableau

She saw:

A man and a woman.

They had each other, but not really. 

They were both wounded, but one was worse. 

The wrong one. 

Maya saw red. She just started talking and couldn’t stop; digging in her claws, she’d gone for the jugular. She’d told Jack that he should have been the one in her position, told him that no one would miss him and how she had never, ever, ever, cared about him, that any illusions he had of their prior friendship had been a deep delusion on his part, and it was only after she saw the light finally fade from his eyes at any hope of reconciliation that she let herself come out of her daze. 

Jack had just taken it, hadn’t looked away as Maya picked at him but neither of them was better for it. 

She didn’t feel better for having berated him and it didn’t fix her. What was going to happen would happen and now, she was actually alone in it. 

Jack had been always in her periphery, waiting at her beck and call, even though she always pushed him away. After her tirade, he seemed to realize that she wanted nothing—less than nothing—to do with him and finally slunk away. 

That was when Maya closed her eyes for a second, just to rest. When she opened them, he was gone. 

/

  
Jack still isn’t back yet and it’s been a while. 

Maybe he _is_ deserting her and has decided to save himself. Try as she might, the thought of dying alone, without even the one person she currently hates the most there to help her through it, makes something break deep inside of Maya. 

This is how it ends, suddenly and painfully and it’s so lonely, Maya thinks if she doesn’t bleed out she might die from the sheer unfairness of it all.

  
/

  
"Maya?" 

Jack shakes Maya awake and her first instinct is to push him away but she’s so relieved to see him, she just stares at him. She hadn’t known until this very moment, how much she had gotten used to his silent presence and seeing Jack with his dirty face and limp hair is so overwhelming, she almost forgets herself and hugs him. 

"You left," she means it bitingly but it comes out accusingly and scared. Worst of all, it comes out. 

"I was trying to get help. I thought I could walk back up to the road and find an opening but it’s a maze," Jack says apologetically. "I thought I would be back before you woke up, I didn’t mean to scare you."

"You didn’t, I don’t care,” Maya says, trying to will her voice steady. "I thought you got eaten by bears. Too bad.”

“No bears, sorry,” Jack says. Regret is coming off him in waves; he stinks of it and Maya doesn’t want to deal with the wounded way he’s looking at her but she can’t turn away. 

She tries to sit up but quick hands immediately push her back down. Extremely unnecessary, even if her head swims with dizziness and she feels much better laying flat on the floor. 

"Get the fuck off me."

"I'm just—I want to help."

"Yeah? You don’t think you’ve done enough?" 

Jack swallows. "I'm so—"

"Sorry? What the fuck is that going to do for me Jack. Really, tell me."

Maya’s dying; it’s inevitable and she doesn’t want to make amends. The distance hasn’t softened her heart or whatever the hell the saying is. She wants to fight, but every spiteful word has to be forced out and none of the satisfaction is there. 

This doesn’t feel good. 

It feels like shit, like she’s working against herself. She is going to die no matter what, but Jack is here and Maya will never admit it but his infallible commitment to staying at her side is a tiny bit reassuring. Of course, it’s what is expected. He’s the reason she’s for her condition and staying is the least he can do, but that loyalty? That’s such a core part of who Jack is, and she can’t pretend it isn’t.

Where’s a blackout when she needs one. 

Digging into his softest bits with acerbic words doesn’t help because this is Jack. 

Jack, who over the last 12 years has become a close friend and has seen her through the trenches whenever she’s needed an ear(she rarely does) but he’s always there. 

Jack, who right from the beginning, knew how to push all Maya’s buttons and irritate her to no end. First at the Academy and then at the Station, always with a stupid remark but also so eager to learn and teach and help, and throughout the years has actually become one of the best firefighters she knows. 

Jack, who helped her scour the city for her brother after she finally decided to look for him a few years ago. He helped Mason out with a place to stay because he had experience with that sort of thing and knew how to connect with Mason when Maya couldn’t. 

Jack, who let Maya stay with him during that month all those years ago when she was fighting with Carina, too in her own head to just accept a good thing, and too proud to go to Andy, who was dealing with her own life. 

Jack, who had stepped in without remark, when even after Maya went back home to Carina, she still felt like she was drowning and had needed to take a step back from work. He had been a good captain, handing the station back to her in perfect condition and easily going back to being her second in command. 

Jack, who comes with Maya to basketball games and gets just as loud as she does and always finishes her snacks and then drives her home, parking in her driveway until the conversation turns into something deeper, and they tell each other things not even the others know about them. 

Jack, who knows things she hasn’t even told Andy, because that darkness inside her, that thing that’s just always at the edge of her personhood and threatens to take over, Jack gets that, in a way no one else does. 

Jack, who finally got it together enough to ask Andy out after her inevitable split with Sullivan. The same Jack who has a daughter with Andy’s face and his eyes who is named Lila, after his sister and has him wrapped around her finger. Lila, along with Pru, can get him to run around the station every time they visit, skirting his duties until they have to leave, but not without a story, during which he does the voices that everyone can hear, even from the beanery. 

The same Jack, who had figured out that Maya wanted to be married to Carina before she did, and who was the first person she told when Carina surprised Maya and proposed to her, instead. 

It’s Jack who talks her down when she starts unraveling and Jack who is married to be best friend and is also her best friend in his own right. 

Jack wouldn’t ever put Maya in harms way, not on purpose. She knows this.

Right now though, Maya hates him. He is her family, but he's the one who hurt her; he will carry this knowledge around forever. 

The thought doesn’t soothe Maya like she had hoped, it just makes her sad, right down to her bones. 

What is happening is a tragedy, and Jack will never stop feeling the ache of of it.

He’s sitting next to her now, far enough to give her space but close enough to step in if she needs it and as furious as Maya is, she also doesn’t want to die alone. 

Jack is her family and she hates him but she loves him, too, and if this is the end then she wants her family with her. Not silently looking out into the ether, but next to her with words of assurance and a firm presence because Maya is a force, but death doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. 

It steals everything, just takes and takes and takes and she can feel it already, parts of her being chipped away and she’s terrified. 

Maya is going to die today.

It’s only a matter of time, really, and she doesn’t know how to explain that as angry as she is, she also doesn’t want Jack to go way again or stay silent, because she doesn’t need to be alive to know how the next few months of his life are going to go; he will be forever haunted by the memories of their last day together, by the echoes of what he did to her. That is punishment enough. 

“Jack—“

"I know, you hate me, and fuck. I hate me—"

"Shut up." 

Jack sounds absolutely destroyed. He looks scared and sorry and devastated and Maya is sure she looks the same.

Jack’s got his hands folded across his chest, like he's waiting for Maya to unleash another verbal lashing, but he’s still leaning towards her, in case she needs help.

Always ready to help. 

She hates that this is happening to them.

"I'm dying," Maya says, and she knows its not what Jack expected but in a way it’s almost worse; tears spring into his eyes and his face darkens with so much grief that Maya has to look away or she won’t be able to go on. 

"I'm dying and you’re not, and this is the worst thing that’s happened to either of us. But you’re going to have to live with this so—fuck. I forgive you, okay?” 

Jack pales. "How can— _Maya_. You’re dying and I—it's my fault." 

It comes out low and hoarse and Maya’s heart clenches in her chest so hard she thinks it might actually break. 

“I know it is.” Maya says. She’s looking directly at him, can see his tears freely flowing and her own eyes are burning. “You did this to me, but you didn’t mean it.” 

“Maya—“

“ _Jack_. Just stop. Okay? I can’t go back and forth with you about this right now. And it’s selfish to make me do that,” Maya says this with less bitterness than she feels. “I’m not going tell you that everything’s okay because it’s not. Don’t put that on me.”

Jack opens and closes his mouth, then nods. “What do—how can I help?” 

It’s too late for anything real, but it’s better than another useless apology and his earnestness unexpectedly tugs at some sentimental part of Maya she thought had long died off. 

Jack isn’t looking at Maya, just glancing anxiously around the clearing like he might find something that she needs, like a hospital will pop up from behind the trees. Being spared from his searching gaze emboldens Maya to say the one thing she has been avoiding. 

“I’m scared,” Maya swallows against a sudden wave of distress. “I’m really fucking scared, Jack. And I can’t stop thinking about how this is maybe the last time I’m ever going to talk to another person and how I might never see anyone else again and everything is so fucking painful and I just—'' Maya is crying too hard to finish, deep silent sobs that won’t stop. Jack is crying too, and he wipes his face a few times with his collar, then holds out the last of the yellowed out bandages to Maya. She takes it, but it’s barely absorbent and after dabbing at her face a few times, she gives up. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jack’s voice is fractured. 

Maya doesn’t tell him to shut up because she knows this might be the last time he gets to say it and that he needs her absolution. She said she wasn’t going to give it, some vengeful part of her eager to hold onto that bitterness. Right now though, it’s her and it’s him and she’s dying and he’s staying and nothing will be the same so, maybe saying it and meaning it will help her too; she can’t control much, but she can control this.

“I know,” Maya says, turning her head so she can look him in the eye. “I know, but don’t say it again. Because I’m trying really hard to pretend this isn’t happening and you reminding me every second is fucking with me. I forgive you, okay? Let’s not talk about it again. Please .” 

“Okay,” Jack moves closer and exhales, visually relieved. He looks surprised when Maya holds out a hand. She’s a bit shocked at herself but she can tell she’s fading again and reaching out just seemed like the thing to do, instinct. 

“Can you just be my person right now? Just be here and don’t go away because _I’m_ going to go away and I don’t want to do that alone.”

It doesn’t feel as stupid once she says it out loud but really, Maya is having a hard time feeling anything at all. She’s so cold, the chill seeping through her clothes and into her bones making it hard to think. 

Terrifying destruction is sinking in and all Maya can think is how it would have hurt so much less had she died on impact. She is supposed to braver and stronger and more ruthless than this; she should want to fight, but she has been fighting forever. 

Sometimes, it feels like Maya has been fighting her whole life. So, maybe it’s okay that she takes a break. 

Just for a little bit. 

Jack is saying something but Maya can’t really hear and this time, she feels like she doesn’t have a choice, when her vision starts to blur.

  
/

"What the _fuck?”_

Jack looks down at his hand then at what Maya is sure is a reddening mark on her cheek. "Shaking you didn't work and yelling didn’t work and you kept saying not to let you die. I had to—“

"Slap me?”

"I didn't know what else to do." Jack runs a hand through his hair, clearly distressed and it's not funny, not at all, but the entire situation is so fucking ridiculous and insane—she is dying because her friend fell asleep at wheel and that same friend just slapped the shit out of her to stop her from dying. 

It’s really not funny and the sound she lets out is more of a sob than a laugh. Jack looks extremely alarmed but he doesn’t say anything.

"Next time,” Maya says, pushing past the lump in her throat, “yell louder."

"Okay. But you have to stay awake. You have to try. Because it’s too soon, you can’t just—” Jack takes huge breaths as he says this and it dawns on Maya just how terrifying it must have been for him, watching her fade in and out like that, over and over. 

“What did you do before?” Maya asks, trying to talk herself conscious. “When I would knock out before, how did you know it wasn’t for good?”

This stops Jack’s minor panic attack. 

“I would get really close to your face and hold this,” He pulls out a small piece of glass from his pocket, “up to your nose to make sure you were breathing. You also talked a lot so it was easy to keep an eye on you.” 

“You did that even though I told you to fuck off?” 

Jack shrugs. “I couldn’t just sit and do nothing.”

“What about when you left?”

Jack swallows. “I gave myself 10 minutes. I had to take a chance, just in case I could get you some help. I used my watch— shit—I forgot to tell you, I found my watch.” He holds up his left hand. 

Maya’s interest fades when she remembers that Jack still wears an old fashioned analog watch, nothing with WiFi or any way to connect to emergency services like the smart watch she usually wears. 

The one day she forgets to snap it on and they get into an accident; it figures, really. 

“What time is it?”

“Still early. 9:40.”

“It feels way later than that, it’s so bright.” Maya says. “How long was I out for?” 

Jack looks solemn as he answers. “Almost 30 seconds. You just kept telling me not to let you die, then you stopped talking. You were so still.”

Maya doesn’t remember any of that. 

She doesn’t think she actually died, but she doesn’t really know. It didn’t feel any different, she was awake and in pain and then she wasn’t. 

Maya has never been afraid of death and there have even been times she’s actively welcomed it, but the constant out she’s had in place since she was a kid stopped being soothing and instead, something she actively kept away from, especially within the restraints of her job. 

She has a life now, and people that care and _she_ cares and she doesn’t want that to end, not one bit. 

She's had a will since she was 19 and has been insured since she was old enough to break records, because her father wasn't going to let his investment to go to waste. But when she thinks of all the little things that come with death, like closing accounts, organizing a funeral and getting rid of her stuff, all the laborious things Carina will have to do, mostly alone, she wants to scream until her voice gives out. 

Maya has spent her whole life running and just as she found herself running towards something— someone—and not away like she was taught to do, she’s going to lose everything. 

“Did you see anything that could help? I know this exit is pretty deserted but someone should have come by now, right?” Maya doesn’t actually care about this, it’s too late for her, but maybe Jack can still get help and she needs to focus on something other than the gaping loss she feels. 

Jack is still holding Maya’s hand, she faintly remembers reaching out to him and briefly considers taking her hand back but she doesn’t. “I tried to climb back up,” he says, “if you go back a few paces you can see where we ejected from. I saw a few cars pass but no one stopped. I don’t get it.”

He does though, they both do. They’ve seen it time and time again in their line of work, people putting themselves and their needs first, not even noticing tragedies right in front of them, carelessly driving over a fire hose while a house burns, or parking in front of a fire hydrant even though they know better. 

Any passing cars either didn’t notice, thought it was construction or didn’t care. 

“So,” Maya says after a tense silence. “It looks like you might die right along here with me, huh?”

She doesn’t even know what she means it as, definitely not a joke, but Jack gapes then huffs out a startled laugh and then they’re both laughing, more hysterical than anything. 

“Oh my god,” Jack says. 

“Think he's real?" 

"Guess you're about to find out?"

Maya is the one doing the gaping this time, before she lets out a loud snort. “That’s terrible."

"The worst,” Jack says, then he repeats it with less lightness, just soft heaviness. “It’s the worst.”

No one laughs this time, the gravity of their situation once again huge and inescapable and hanging over them. 

Maya takes a shuddering breath. “Can you do something for me?”

Jack immediately looks up and nods. "Yeah, of course."

“Could you," Maya grunts and points at her stomach, “Help me up? I just wanna see everything one last time. To make sure.” 

"Maya, I don’t think that’s a good idea, you—“

"Yeah, see, you can’t actually say no to me. On account of the dying thing. Which you caused.”

Jack looks helpless but he only sighs and moves to her side. "Hold on to me, okay?".

He grabs her shoulder and hoists her up gently, but it still fells like hell and Maya’s vision whitens for a long excruciating moment. She has to rest her head on Jack’s shoulder as she rights herself. 

"Jesus."

"Sorry, fuck. Should I help you back down?" 

"Fuck no. Don't move me again," A thin drop of blood falls from her nose and onto her top lip but Maya hardly notices, too focused on trying not to retch at the pain. 

"Maya?" Jack’s is fully holding her up now and he sounds worried.

"Jack, I think—" She doesn’t finish; a loud cough wrangles its way through her, the taste of blood on her tongue unsurprising but still making her wince. 

Jack wipes at the bit of blood that dribbles out of the side of her mouth with the edge of his sleeve. Maya tries to thank him but chokes. 

She leans away to spit on the ground and even that tiny action makes her whimper in pain. 

“Shit. Okay, here,” Jack uses both hands to steady her. “I don’t think you should move but staying upright isn’t helping so I’m sorry, but I have to do this, okay?”

‘This,’ means slowly lowering her to the ground and she would punch him in the face if he wasn’t going so slow and also didn’t look he would rather switch places with her. 

It feels like an hour, but they finally make it and the blood flooding her mouth lessens in its frequency. 

Her vision is going black around the edges and she should be used to it by now but she's terrified and this time when she starts drifting, she tries to fight it.

Jack is peering down at her, her head in his lap as he runs a careful hand through the side of her head that isn’t gaping open. 

He keeps telling her to hold on, but she doesn’t know what to hold on to. She tries to say something, to tell him that he needs to stop crying, because his tears are going to freeze on his face but when she tries talking, she just gurgles. There’s too much blood and even spitting it out isn’t helping. Jack doesn’t make her move her head and she’s getting blood on his pants but it’s like he doesn’t even care. 

Maya is so cold. 

She drifts. 

  
/

  
It feels like only a second, but the relief on Jack’s face when she opens her eyes and the solid lucidity she’s gained tells her it’s been longer. She doesn’t ask Jack and he doesn’t offer, just breaks into a relieved smile and peers down at her with wet eyes. 

“I thought—” Jack cuts himself off. “You can’t just do that.”

“I’ll take that under advisement." Maya's mouth feels dry. She’s thirsty, the last of their water is gone, used to wash the taste of blood from her mouth. 

There’s a half frozen puddle near Jack’s foot and she would totally go for it, if she wanted to add ‘dire case of ringworm’ to her autopsy. 

“Jack, I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

He doesn’t ask what she means he just nods, and for some reason his sad resignation is the thing that breaks her. 

He’s looking at her like she’s already gone and she can’t bear it. 

For a brief moment Maya wishes that they had both just died. 

It’s unkind, but it would make things so much easier. Maya has never been one to take the easy way out but she’s a pragmatist and friends mourning friends in a tragic accident is bearable, far easier to swallow than friends mourning the friend their other friend killed. It’s even a mouthful to say and nothing about it feels good. 

Maya doesn’t want to die, not now and not ever, but her body is shutting down and she can’t stop it. 

She keeps trying to hold onto something, memories, thoughts, anything, but the world is darkening and her limbs are sluggish.

“It’s okay,” Jack is saying over and over, “it’s okay, you’ll be okay, just relax.”

Maya doesn’t want to relax. Not one bit. Relaxing feels like giving in and she doesn’t know how long she’s got until her brain completely gives out and she quite literally loses her mind but she needs to make the most of her time. 

“No. I don’t want to relax, fuck that.” It comes out as a mumble. Her mind is lagging. 

Jack nods sorrowfully, and Maya tries to remember all the important shit she’s ever thought of in her life. She didn’t actually mean to have any last rites or last words, but she’s started thinking now and she can’t stop. There are so many things she’ll never get to tell any one else and Jack’s all she has so he’s going to have to listen.

He’s waiting for her to go on and she flies through various thoughts and lands on the most important thing. 

“You’ll have to help Carina,” Maya says. “She’s going to hate you for a really long time for just being alive but you can’t let her lose herself, okay? And she can’t know the truth.”

“Maya—“

“Let me finish,” Maya pleads. “It’ll ruin her and it was an accident, it could have just as well been an animal. You didn’t mean it. So you can’t tell her. Or anyone else.” 

Jack just frowns deeply. “What are you...? I have to."

He seems like he’s going to say more but Maya interrupts before he can. 

“You can’t tell anyone the truth, even you aren’t that naive."

“Maya. There’ll be an investigation.”

“I don’t give a shit. Say it was a deer or a raccoon. We are literally in the woods. Say anything. Accidents like this happen all the time, no one will second guess you.”

Jack is shaking his head and he looks pale, but Maya isn’t going to let him ruin his life just because she’s about to lose hers. 

She thought they were on the same page but apparently not, and now she has to make herself stay conscious, has to fight through the burn in her throat to talk him down from doing something stupid. 

“You can’t tell anyone the truth about this, Jack. You have to lie.”

Jack glances at her sharply. "Maya, I can’t just—"

"Jack, let’s just be real about this for a second, alright? Let's say you tell them. Fine. What does that accomplish, exactly? Everyone will hate you and your guilt isn’t just magically going to go away and—fuck.”

Blood keeps gathering in the corners of her mouth, sour and thick and Jack is helping her clean up but it’s coming too quickly even as she tries to spit it out. 

It won’t be long now. 

"I can't lie," Jack says, bringing a hand up to wipe at her mouth again. “I won't."

"You have to." 

"I can't, Maya, that’s not how this is works. How many accidents have we cleaned up? Someone will find out.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Maya, I—“

“What about Andy? Because this will tear you two apart. She’ll never get over this and Lila deserves parents who don’t hate each other.” 

It's brutal, but it’s exactly the thing to say to get him to understand; a little cruelty is just the thing every now and then. Especially so, when one is dying. 

Jack’s internal battle is plain to see, his face contorted in agony and defeat. He just needs one more push. 

Maya can’t do a lot, but she can keep her family together. Andy, Vic, Travis, Miller and Warren, they're her family, them and Carina are the most important. Nothing is going to tear them apart, not even her. She has to know that even without her there, they’ll be okay. 

"It'll wreck them," Maya insists. "It'll wreck everyone. Just say anything that takes the blame off of you, okay? You can’t tell them that you fell asleep, Jack. You just can’t.”

"They'll understand," Jack whispers, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself than her. 

"No, they won't." 

Jack stares at her for a long moment.

Something howls in the woods and a formation of birds erupt from the west. Maya tries not to think too much about what it is they’re fleeing. 

"They would understand a bad call, or if this was a minor accident. But this? This is too much. I’m going to die and you did this to me."

It knocks the breath out of Maya to say it, even though she’s said it before and the tears are coming too quickly for her to wipe. She’s sure her teeth are bloodstained and her nose is raw but she doesn’t move to do anything about either of those problems. There’s no point.

"They won't understand." Maya tries again to make Jack to see, “they really won’t.” 

Her vision is darkening and every word feels like she’s speaking through a mouthful of pebbles but she has to make him get this. 

"Lie," Maya says, closing her eyes; she isn’t so cold anymore. 

When she opens her eyes, Jack is looking vacantly at her. Maya hates how hollow he looks, hates that this is how her life is ending but even if nothing will ever be the same again, something has to remain.

“Okay.” Jack says it so low and strained Maya almost doesn’t pick it up. 

"You promise?”

The bags under Jack’s eyes are pronounced and his jaw flexes with unspoken words but she can tell by the way he’s struggling to speak that she’s won. It’s a shitty prize, but she needs him to say it.

"I'll lie."

It doesn't give her the relief she’s after. It doesn’t do much of anything at all, but she needs to know that her family won’t fall apart without her and he’s given her that. 

"Thank you."

It’s the last thing she says before the blackness overtakes her vision again, her throat raw as she tries to speak. She tries to tell Jack that she was wrong before, that he is a good friend and that it will be okay but she opens her mouth and the words won’t come. 

She fades. 

  
/ 

She wakes up gasping for air, spasming so hard, Jack has to hold her down and cover her body with his. 

Jack lowers her so she’s flat on the ground but he’s still holding her hand and he’s squeezing so tight Maya narrows in on that, lets it ground her and doesn’t give in to the chill she can now feel all over her body. 

She has never been so cold in all her life but it’s turning into numbness and she knows it’s the shock and blood loss but it feels almost otherworldly. 

“I think I’m running out of time, Jack.” 

He shakes his head and brushes some of her hair back, carefully lifting her head to rest on his thigh. 

It feels a little better than the floor and she’s starting to feel warmer.

She really is so tired. 

“Hey, hey. Try to stay awake. You need to—fuck. Tell me something okay? Tell me—Carina. Tell me about Carina."

Maya is mostly trying not to pass out but she rallies enough to send him her hardest glare. "Don’t," she says, warningly.

She hasn’t given him any rules for seeing her through this other than their pact, but she thought it was obvious that she wouldn’t want to be reminded about the people she’s going to lose. It wouldn’t do her any good and talking about all the people she’s going to miss is a special kind of torture. 

Jack seemed to pick up on that. Until now. 

"Just. Maya, please. You have to say awake. Okay? We have to keep talking. Tell me anything. How did you two meet?"

"We met at a bar,” Maya says, because he won’t stop asking and she likes this story anyway. Her head lolls to the side on its own accord and Jack has to hold her steady. “You were there, it was a long time ago.”

"That’s right, keep going."

"Remember that stupid camping trip I planned? When we got attacked by a bear and I had to—“ A wave of nausea overwhelms her and she has to turn her head away to the side to avoid vomiting in Jack’s lap. She only just makes it. "Jack..."

"No, Maya don’t stop. Just keep going okay?" Jack repositions her so that her head is back in his lap, his jacket bunched under her head for more comfort, even though it doesn’t really help. "What happened next? Tell me."

"We—we started talking, and she offered to buy me a drink if I showed her...if..." Maya has to stop to remember and she finds she can’t . She knows there’s something she’s missing, but it’s like all her thoughts are jumbled; everything is mixed up and she doesn’t want to do this anymore. “I don’t remember,” Maya chokes this out and tears spring into her eyes at the admission. She’s been losing memories all day, but it still feels too soon and she hates it. 

Jack has a pained look on his face but he just nods like she isn’t losing it. “Okay, that’s okay, I'll remember for you. You've told this story a bunch of times. You kind of talk about Carina a lot, you know? I think you have a crush.”

'She's my girlfriend. I’m allowed.”

Jack blinks really fast, his face pinched. 'Wife, Maya. She's your wife."

Maya takes a second to think on that. It sounds right but she can’t... everything feels dim. Distant, like she's watching from the outside and it’s getting really hard to keep going on.

It’s harder to remember why she should. 

"It’s okay, try to remember. You just showed up at work one day and you were married. You eloped.” 

"Yeah? When was this?"

"Three summers ago now."

"Was it a big wedding?” Maya doesn’t remember a big wedding and she feels like she wouldn’t forget that. Or any wedding. She’s never really wanted to get married but she could marry Carina. She’s kind and beautiful and always smells good, like strawberries. 

She says that last bit out loud, and Jack gives her a troubled look. When he speaks again, he sounds like he’s crying. Maya can’t remember why.

Maybe he’s cold too. 

He’s still talking, telling her about Carina and Maya doesn’t want him to stop, but there’s something she needs to say before it’s too late. 

“I was wrong, earlier,” Maya breathes, meeting his eyes and holding up her hand before he can speak. “When I said I wished it was you, I was wrong.” 

“Maya,” Jack takes a deep breath. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. It’s fine.”

“It isn’t though.” Maya’s voice breaks but she has to make sure he knows. 

“You’re a good person. I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now but it’s true, so just let me say it. You have to—” She leans to vomit and this time what comes out of her mouth looks like coffee grounds but tastes like blood and it sticks to her lips. She needs to hurry up. 

Jack isn’t letting her talk though, he just keeps apologizing, over and over. His hand in Maya’s is too tight and he’s pressing his forehead to hers, too close, but she doesn’t push him off because she can’t feel anything, anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack says, through tears, “I am so sorry.”

“I know. Okay? I know.” Maya groans and closes her eyes, she can’t keep them open anymore and it’s equal parts relieving and horrifying. 

She tries to speak, tries to tell Jack she’ll miss him but she isn’t sure she gets it out, blood trickling from her mouth when she tries to speak. Her mind is racing and everything has started to blur together, all her thoughts folding in on themselves. 

Carina will be so mad, is the last thing Maya thinks before she lets go. 

Carina is going to be furious because she tells Maya all the time, ‘don’t die.’ 

It was something she said one morning, early on in their relationship when Maya's job was still a wonder to her. ‘Be safe, don’t die,’ became their own form of goodbye, and Carina says it to Maya every time she leaves for work. 

_'Don’t die,' Carina says, ‘I’ll see you tonight/tomorrow/in the morning: don’t die.'_

Maya would have liked to keep her promise and she wants to tell Jack to tell Carina she tried, but her tongue feels like lead in her mouth. 

She’s exhausted. 

There is something she needed to remember but everything feels so far away. 

The shadows dancing on her eyelids don’t terrify her anymore so Maya leans in and finally lets go. 

She sinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -


End file.
